Congratulations, Justice Paul Baffoe-Bonnie, you’ve done it! Not only have you been nominated as Ghana’s Chief Justice, but you’ve also survived what might be the longest and most theatrical vetting session in parliamentary history. While others were trading verbal punches and quoting the Constitution like scripture, you sat through it all with the patience of Job and the silence of a monk. If resilience were a legal qualification, you’d already be Chief Justice for life.

If Ghana’s Parliament ever needed a reality show, it wouldn’t have to audition, it’s already producing one. Monday’s vetting of Justice Paul Baffoe-Bonnie, President Mahama’s nominee for Chief Justice, had all the ingredients of prime-time drama: long monologues, sudden interruptions, dramatic walkouts, and of course, a cliffhanger ending. Viewers, otherwise known as citizens, could only sigh: another day, another drama.

The show began with Minority Leader Alexander Afenyo-Markin taking the floor for what was meant to be “brief opening remarks.” But “brief” in Ghanaian politics is like “soon” in a trotro driver’s mouth, it means wait as long as you can endure. Four hours later, the Minority Leader was still preaching about constitutional purity and political morality, while the nominee, Justice Baffoe-Bonnie, sat quietly, possibly reconsidering his career choices.

When Afenyo-Markin finally described the nominee as a “disputed Chief Justice,” Majority Leader Mahama Ayariga shot up like a referee spotting a foul. “I can assure you that I will not allow you to break any inch of the rules today!” he barked. It was the kind of line that could make it into a parliamentary action film, Rule breakers: The Vetting Edition.

Let’s give it to the Minority, they know how to make an exit. After hours of verbal jabs, they finally staged their grand walkout, waving the flag of “constitutional principle.” Their reason? That the nomination was illegitimate because of ongoing court cases over former Chief Justice Gertrude Torkornoo’s removal.

But here’s the irony, while preaching about judicial independence, they’ve turned the judiciary into a prop in their political theatre. They insist they’re defending democracy yet they’ve managed to turn every democratic process into a duel of egos.

And let’s be honest, boycotting has become their most rehearsed dance move. They have perfected the timing, a few heated words, a dramatic declaration (“Let the record reflect!”), and then the coordinated exit. It’s democracy by choreography.

They have the right to walk out. But perhaps Ghanaians deserve a Parliament that walks in to work more often than it walks out in protest.

Poor Justice Baffoe-Bonnie. A man with decades of judicial experience, dragged into a crossfire of parliamentary theatrics. If integrity had a face, it would probably look confused.

What exactly did he do wrong? Nothing, except accepting a nomination that the minority have turned into a political weapon. Should he now suffer because of a political ghost haunting the minority? Should competence be held hostage by conspiracy?

Justice Baffoe-Bonnie deserved an evaluation, not a spectacle. But in today’s Parliament, reasoned vetting has been replaced by verbal warfare. What was meant to test his competence instead tested Ghana’s patience.

Out in the real world, citizens are watching, weary but wise. They’re asking simple questions: Why need 24 hours to vet one person? Why spend half the day arguing and seeking to speak loudest instead of asking about the nominee’s vision for the judiciary?

This is not rocket science. Vetting, like an interview, should assess competence, ethics, and vision not turn into a marathon of speeches about who loves the Constitution more.

If Parliament were a theatre, they’d win awards. If it were a workplace, they’d be fired for time-wasting.

Justice Gertrude Torkornoo’s name should not be dragged into every speech like a political chant. The more the Minority invokes her, the more they risk eroding the respect she earned. Justice Baffoe-Bonnie should not be punished for succeeding her.

And as for the threats of chaos, we thank the God of parliamentary decorum that fear of sanctions kept chairs, tables, and microphones intact this time. Otherwise, Ghana might have witnessed another episode of The Great Parliamentary Furniture Fight.

Politics will always have conflict, but governance demands maturity. If Parliament continues to treat constitutional duties as partisan contests, one day even Justice herself will recuse, citing political fatigue.

Because at this rate, when the next Chief Justice is nominated, Ghanaians won’t be asking about his jurisprudence; they’ll be asking, “Will Parliament behave this time?”

And that, Honourables, is the real test not for Justice Baffoe-Bonnie, but for you.